Soap Opera
by LadyofSpain
Summary: Jake comes to the house to help Bells-folding laundry. Who knew that it would result in trouble with Edward and Charlie, not to mention being hazardous to his own health? His wish to win Bells however, is in the laundry bag!


**Soap Opera**

**By Lady of Spain**

Disclaimer: All characters herein are the property of S. Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Bells was busy loading the clothes into the washer when her cell's ringtone went off. She hastily closed the lid to the washer and picked up the phone.

Jake's cheerful voice chirped, "Hey, Bells, you coming to see me today?" She could almost feel the sunshine flowing through the air waves and warming her heart.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry; I've got piles of stuff to do. Can't you come over here?"

Good grief. She forgot all about visiting her best friend today. She'd been studying for midterms all week and now the mass of housework was staring her in the face. Bells was mortified—Charlie had only one clean shirt left. He told her he would do the laundry himself, but Bella refused the offer. It was a matter of pride. She also liked feeling needed, and Charlie worked long hours protecting the citizens of Forks. It was the least she could do to help him.

"Dead battery," he groaned.

"What about your bike?"

"Gas tank's empty."

"Can't you just phase and run over here."

"I would, but you always complain when I show up barefooted and shirtless. I'll see if Embry can drop me off. See ya soon, one way or the other."

"Okay, but don't expect anything. I won't have too much time to spend with you. I'll be doing housework, and Edward's coming over at three."

Jake cursed inwardly. Edward—always Edward. Why did that filthy bloodsucker have to come back to haunt him? He literally had to snatch tiny increments of time with Bella, while Mr. Sparkles monopolized the remainder of it.

Damn, Jake felt like he was getting hit in the gut, at the mere mention of the leech's name. A million questions swirled inside of his brain. Why can't he ever catch a break? Why did he have to feel like he was second best? What did that paleface have that he didn't have—except for his constant thirst for a certain red fluid? The only blood Jake thirsted for belonged to the leech—oh, wait—he didn't have any did he? Jacob was so tempted to just run over Edward with his motorcycle—twice—nah, make it three times—it would give a whole new meaning to the term crushed granite, huh?

After about 20 minutes, Bells heard the loud roar of a motorcycle pulling up beside the house. She looked out the window and there in all his glory was that irresistible, tall, dark and unbelievably cute Quileute. She had to admit it to herself; Jake was one hot number in more ways than one.

He parked the bike close to the kitchen, waving at Bella as she peered out the window. His long legs carried him swiftly to her doorstep. She pulled the door open and there stood all of Jacob Black. He nearly took her breath away. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt which emphasized his muscular torso and biceps; his blue jeans didn't leave much to the imagination either.

Standing there, Jake nearly filled the whole entryway. Bella couldn't help smiling as Mr. Sunshine beamed back at her. His toothsome grin was so white it was practically blinding.

Bella realized that Embry hadn't dropped him off. "I see you brought your motorbike along."

"Yeah, well I was desperate so I decided to borrow some gas from our lawnmower."

Laughing, Bella said, "What are you going to do when the grass needs cutting?"

"I'll siphon gas from the Rabbit, what else?"

She shook her head at his logic. They gazed at each other for a moment. She finally quipped, "Well, what are you waiting for? We've got work to do!"

Jake put out both of his wrists as if he was about to be handcuffed. "Lead the way, Bells. I'm your slave for today. He lifted the sleeve of his tee shirt. Look, I've even got your brand on my shoulder."

"Ha, ha, very funny. Now let's get going!"

* * *

><p>Bells let Jake hold the basket while she removed all the clothes from the dryer and placed them in the receptacle.<p>

After that was done, she told Jake, "I've gotta get the floor mopped. Do you think you could handle folding up the laundry?"

Jake put his hand over his heart. "I'm insulted—and yes—deeply wounded. Of course I can fold up the clothes. I _do_ know how to fold laundry!"

"Jake . . ." she lectured. "I _have_ seen your room, remember?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't how. I just don't feel obligated to fold up my own stuff. What's a few wrinkles gonna hurt?"

After Bells finished mopping the floor, she waited a few minutes. Then she turned her attention to some wet dishes remaining on the counter.

Jacob quietly began folding the laundry. He held up a white cotton bikini. In a girly voice, he teased, "I like the little bow on the front of these, Bella, it's darling."

Bells didn't say a word; she just let a loud sigh demonstrate her feelings. However, she did spin around in time to notice Jake dangling one of her bras in the air. He was checking the tag for the size, and mouthing 32 B.

"Give me that!" she exclaimed. Jake quickly placed it behind his back, out of her reach.

Sometimes he could be so exasperating. "What do you think you're doing, Jake?"

"I'm folding the clothes, just like you asked me to."

Bells was flushing scarlet.

"Jeez, Bells, you think I haven't seen a bra before? I _do_ have two sisters, you know. What are you getting so embarrassed for?"

"You were looking at the tag. I saw you—you were trying to see what size it was. How would you like it if I tried to find out what size jock strap you wore?"

"Actually, if they ever make one big enough to fit me, you'll be the first to know."

"Jacob Black!" she sputtered. "Did you have to say that?" Her blush got considerably deeper.

"Well it's the truth—you want me to lie to you?"

"You didn't have to give me so much information." Gee whiz, did he have to be so brutally honest?

"You wanna slap me or something?"

"I'd love to, but last time I tried that, I wound up with a broken knuckle—thanks to you. I'd have better luck hitting a brick wall."

"You got me. I confess—yeah, I was looking at the tag. 32 B, just the right size—_Oh_ _hell, Freudian slip—_I mean . . . that's your size. All right, I'm sorry, okay? I'll never, ever do it again. I promise. I'm really, really, sorry, Bells. I didn't mean to upset you. Can I fold up the rest of the clothes now?"

He looked repentant, for the time being anyway. "Knock yourself out," she retorted.

Jake gazed up at her with those puppy dog eyes, and pleaded, "Do you forgive me?"

She was such a sucker for that_ look_. "I always do, don't I?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Jake grinned and replied, "Wanna kiss and make up?"

"Nice try, Sunny Boy!"

"Always gotta try," he laughed. That was the understatement of the year. He would never give up trying to win her heart—not ever.

"Hey, Bells, I ran out of hangers for Charlie's shirts. Do you have a few extra stashed somewhere?"

"There are some in the linen closet on the right hand side," she muttered as she finished drying the last dish. She walked over to the washer and threw in another load of laundry.

Bella stepped back and reached up to the shelf holding all the cleaning products. She pulled down the bottle of liquid detergent and began pouring it into the cap. Just then, Jacob sauntered up behind her, and leaning over her shoulder, said, "I couldn't find any, Bells."

Bella, jerked, startled—and hitting a slick spot still wet from her mopping—her left foot slid out in front of her. She caught the lip of a lower shelf with her elbow, steadying herself, but unfortunately before she got herself righted, the detergent spewed out in a fountain—up out of the bottle and the cap—landing right on Jake. The blue liquid shot into his eyes, his hair and down his shirt.

"Dammit!" he yelled. "Ow, ow, ow! Oh God, that burns! I can't see anything—Bells!"

"Oh my gosh, Jake!" She set down the detergent, grabbed his hands and hurriedly rushed him over to the kitchen sink. She kicked a chair into place up against the sink and steered Jake to sit in it. She pivoted him around quickly, saying, "There's a chair right behind you. I need you to sit down and tip your head back."

She turned on the faucet, and grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, began pouring water over his eyes. The water was running down the neck of his tee and onto the freshly mopped floor. She continued pouring the water into his beautiful brown eyes that were now a ghastly red hue. She kept refilling the bowl and cleansing his eyes for a full 10 minutes.

"How does that feel, now?" she asked.

"It still feels like they're on fire. Damn, it stings so bad!"

"You want me to pour more water on them?"

"No, I don't think that's gonna help any. You pretty much flushed all the soap out."

"Well, don't move. I've gotta rinse all the detergent out of your hair too, or it's gonna drip back into your eyes."

Bells started giving Jake a shampoo of sorts. Her fingers ruffled through his shiny black tresses as Jake peered up at her. Even after practically blinding him, that look of adoration was unmistakable.

Jake closed his eyes, reveling in the moment. "Feels good," he murmured.

The sink was quickly filling up with mounds of suds. Geesh, how many more times did she have to rinse the darn soap out? She could just imagine how much more difficult it would have been, if his hair hadn't been shorn so close to his scalp.

The rinse water finally began to run clear, so she picked up a towel and rubbed it over his head.

His tee was dripping wet and still had streaks of blue cascading down the front of it. "I might as well put your shirt in with the rest of the wash. Here let me help you take it off."

Jake stretched his arms overhead, as she peeled off his wet tee. He certainly could remove the shirt on his own, but spoil the chance of actually being stripped by Bella—not a chance!

She placed the tee in with the other clothes, and poured in the detergent—obviously a little less this time. The washer began to agitate.

Jake was still sitting in the chair, so Bella extended her hand to help move him to the couch. "Can you see all right now?" she asked.

"Everything's a little blurry, but it's clearing up okay. It still is burning though. Man, that stings!"

Bells looked closely at his eyes. "My gosh, Jake, they're so red." She winced at the sight.

He tried to lighten the atmosphere. He quoted a line from "Cat Ballou", mimicking that Lee Marvin line. "You should see 'em from my side."

"Let this be a lesson to you. Stay as far away from me as possible. I'm detrimental to your health."

"Yeah, right—I couldn't stay away from you, if I wanted to. Believe me I've tried."

"But look at what happened. Why am I always hurting you?"

Jake's tone got serious. "When you find out, let me know, 'cuz I keep asking myself the same question."

* * *

><p>Bella patted Jake's hand as he settled onto the couch. "Wait here, I'm gonna get some artificial tears from the medicine cabinet."<p>

"Bells, I'll be fine. You don't need to do that."

Of course she didn't listen and came back toting a small ampoule of eye drops. "Okay . . . lean back."

"No—I told you—it's gonna make them burn a lot worse."

"It won't. These are saline drops—the kind that soothes sore eyes."

_You're a sight for sore eyes_, he thought.

"I said—no!"

"Why are you being such a baby? Do I have to sit on you?"

"I'd like to see you try, but hey—be my guest," he taunted.

"Don't you ever dare me like that!" Bells was adamant now. She leaped onto the couch and straddled him, pushing his head back against the edge of the sofa. She held his left eye open with her thumb and forefinger while she let a couple of drops fill the cavity under the eye itself. Jake stiffened as he anticipated the searing pain. He suddenly relaxed as the drops eased the stinging a bit.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked.

"Not as bad, but even when it was burning a hole in my eye sockets, it still doesn't compare with the pain that's always in my heart. And I don't think there are magic drops anywhere in the world that can relieve it."

Her guilt was threatening to surface. She knew without a doubt that she was the cause of his eternal heartache and she hated herself for it. She risked peering at the sad expression on his face. She was sorry that she did. Why did he have to look so forlorn and yet so adorable at the same time?

Bella added drops to the other eye. "Now blink," she instructed, as she snapped the cap back on the bottle.

"I don't want to."

"You-don't-want-to," she reiterated. "Why are you making this so difficult? Why can't you just blink for me? I'm trying to help you for Pete's sake!"

"I don't want to . . . 'cuz . . . I don't want to close my eyes and miss a single moment of seeing you this close to me. You've never been this close to me before, at least not willingly. Jeez, you are so beautiful, Bells. This is one of the only treasures I'll get to keep. Memories of you are all I'll have left—just a very few memories."

Oh God, there was that _look_ again. He gazed up at her with those pitiful eyes—all crimson and sore—and suddenly she forgot who she was and what she was doing. She forgot that she belonged to Edward, and right now all she could see was that sweet, handsome face just begging to be kissed—begging to be loved—begging to be hers. _Her Jacob, her sweet Jacob_. Yes, he could be hers—and yes she could be his. It all hinged on this moment, this one kiss could start a whole new chapter in her life.

Bells couldn't help herself. Those warm, full lips were calling to her. And that Cupid's bow was like a magnet drawing her mouth closer and closer until she surrendered to the gravitational pull. She leaned forward and Jacob flinched in amazement as she touched her lips to his. Her fingers clenched the roots of his silky dark hair as she deepened the kiss. He lifted his head and responded with all the pent up emotion that he had been restraining for nearly three years. He had hungered for her love for so long and now the overpowering feelings came tumbling out in a torrent. His eyes were manufacturing their own salty tears as he whispered her name, "Bella." His strong arms clutched her to his bare chest. He kissed her ears and throat and nuzzled along her neck with his nose. He wanted to devour her.

"Oh my God, Jake," she murmured. "You are . . . you are . . . so darn irresis—"

Jake pulled her soft lips back to his; he couldn't get enough of her. This was a dream come true. How did this happen? But, more importantly, who cared how it happened—it actually finally _happened_. Jake's luck had changed. No more second best—no more sleepless nights—no more wishing and hoping. She was his—his Bella.

They were quickly running out of breath as their passion escalated. Bella let out several moans that Edward overheard as he stepped through her front door. His greeting caught in his throat as he assimilated the vision before him. He had come back early from his hunting trip—apparently not early enough. He took a few steps into the room. His heart was crushed as he beheld Bella straddling a shirtless Jacob Black. She certainly never kissed _him_ like that. Her hands were all over him; her mouth fairly glued to his. He knew Jacob could sense his presence; but that didn't seem to stop him from his amorous activity. That dog was rubbing this victory in his face.

Jacob broke the kiss. Bella tried to reach for his mouth again, but Jake stopped her, cupping her chin in his hand. He gently turned her face toward a very gloomy looking vampire, whose honey colored eyes had abruptly lost their sheen.

"Oh my gosh . . . Edward!" Her dismay was evidenced by the timbre of her voice. "I wasn't expecting you till three." Of all the stupid things to say!

"Apparently," he commented wryly.

"Edward . . . I . . ." she stuttered, her face a sheet of scarlet.

His beautiful countenance wore a mask of sorrow and betrayal. "Stop . . . Don't say another word, Bella. I'm very upset at this moment. We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we can discuss this situation rationally. I think I better go now, before I forget my manners." Edward turned suddenly and was gone in a flash.

Jake kept his mouth shut for once, not wanting to antagonize the heartbroken vampire. It would be unfair of him to pour salt in the wound. He realized the hurt that Edward must be feeling—the hurt that was Jake's bill of fare for the last three years. It was a crushing weight that never eased up even with the passage of time.

Bella pulled away from Jacob, covering her face with her hands. "Oh God, what have I done? I'm such a horrible person. What must he be thinking? What was I thinking? Was I even thinking at all?"

That heavy weight began to descend on Jacob's heart once more. "Don't, Bella . . . please don't. You can't backpedal on me now. It'll kill me for sure. You can't go back to him and pretend this never happened. I'm begging you; please don't hurt me like that—I'd rather be busted up by that newborn than have you leave me all alone. Physical pain I can deal with, but heartache . . . It's a constant, nagging pain, totally wrapping itself around me. It's my personal companion staying with me day and night. I won't be able to stand another bout of it. I can't . . . I just can't go through that again.

"Bells, look at me!" He pulled her hands away from her contorted face, and held them close to his heart. He gazed intently into her chocolate orbs, his own now brimming with tears. His voice cracked with emotion. "Promise me that you won't go back to him. This wasn't a mistake. This is the beginning of the path our lives should follow. You and me—Jake and Bells. We're a match. Don't fight it, or throw it away. I love you Bells, and I always will."

Bella felt like a monster. It was funny really—here she was surrounded by monsters and yet she was the perpetrator of this heinous crime. Edward loved her unconditionally. He

protected her; he saved her life, and this is how she repaid him? Would he ever forgive her? Would he be able to move on? How could she explain to him what had changed her mind? She couldn't even fathom it herself. It was that expression of longing in Jacob's eyes. Who was she fooling? Bella was falling for him way before their accident occurred. Jake had wormed himself into her heart little by little. She hardly noticed until that _look_ sent her reeling. How could she be such a callous and fickle little girl? Tomorrow's conversation with Edward would be the most difficult of her life.

Jacob released her hands and cringed inwardly awaiting her response. Instead of retreating, as he feared, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close to her. "Why does life have to be so hard?" she breathed into his neck. "You once spelled out to me all that I would lose in this life if I chose to be with Edward. You were so right. You are the better choice. I tried not to think about it, but I would have to give up so much to be with him. He's one person. I would hurt so many others to make just one person happy. How could I be happy knowing all the sorrow I caused? I can't do it. I still love him, Jacob, but I just can't do it.

"Jake . . .?"

"Yeah?"

She tightened her grip on his neck, and in a trembling voice whispered, "I need you to hold me right now. Would you mind?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't ever want to let you go." He pulled her closer and brushed her hair back from her face with his fingers. His arms could never get tired of holding her. He smoothed his hand across the top of her head repeatedly and planted small kisses there before tucking it under his chin. "God, I love you, Bells."

The two lovers sat quietly, embraced in one another's arms.

Bells looked up and said, "You still want to kiss and make up?"

"Sure, sure, but what am I making up for this time?"

"For getting me in trouble with Edward."

"Hey, hold on—you started it. You kissed me first. It's not my fault that I fell prey to your seductive charms."

"Jake?"

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me." Maybe that would make her forget about all the worries that were crowding her mind.

"Anything you say, _Bossy Britches_." He was so ready to comply with her wishes.

Bells remained atop Jake, her hands laced at his neck. One of Jake's hands was entwined in Bell's hair; his other was under her blouse wrapped around her waist.

The two were so involved in their encounter that they failed to notice the back door open. In walked Charlie, who was not pleased to see his daughter astride a half naked Jacob, with her lips locked together with his.

"What the hell's going on here? I thought you two were just friends. Jacob—get your damn shirt on. Bells get off his lap, now! And what is this blue stuff all over the floor?"

"Uh . . . hi Dad!"

Jake's eyesight wasn't completely restored yet so he whispered in Bella's ear, "Does he still have his gun belt on?"

"No, but he still has the badge. I could be arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor."

"What are you mumbling about? Didn't you two hear me—now move!" Charlie's face was turning an alarming shade of purple.

Bells climbed off of Jake's lap, and sat beside him. She glanced at her father and wondered aloud, "Why are you home so early today?" Yeah, what was with everyone showing up unexpectedly—and today, of all days?

"I have a stinkin' headache, and this isn't making it any better. I was starting to see double, but now I'm seeing red! Speaking of red—why are your eyes so bloodshot, Jake? Bells have you been making this boy cry? Oh, god, no—you're not doing drugs are you?"

"No, Dad. It's a long story. Jake was helping me with the laundry and I slipped and the detergent splashed into his eyes. I was giving him some eye drops, and I kinda got . . . distracted."

"Distracted? Well, no wonder—what girl wouldn't be distracted with a muscle-bound boy sitting around here practically naked." His eyes suddenly darted back to Jacob.

"Son, I thought I told you to get your damn shirt back on."

"It's still in the wash, Charlie!"

The purple tinge was starting to fade a little. "I see. Bells, go get him one of my old tee shirts. And if that doesn't work, put him in my bath robe."

Bells hopped off the couch and ran into Charlie's room to retrieve a tee shirt. She found his largest one—the one with the slogan:

Forks Lumber

"The best studs are right here"

She chuckled as she realized how appropriate this was. The shirt might not fit, but the slogan was _very_ _fitting_.

Bells returned to the living room and handed the garment to Jake. He was having a problem finding the arm holes; his vision was still a bit blurry. She helped him slip his arms and head into the correct openings. The tee was even tighter than the one he was previously wearing. Holy cow, she would never be able to look at that shirt again without thinking about the way Jake filled it out.

Jacob had a sheepish expression as he told her dad, "I'm sorry you witnessed that, Charlie. But, I'm tellin' ya, your daughter had me under her spell. She started the ball rolling—and well—you know how it is. That's the truth, sir—she made the moves on me!"

"I believe you, son. I _do_ know my own daughter. I still don't like it, but I believe you."

"If you only knew the half of it . . ." Jake muttered.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"Never mind."

"Anyway, you're staying for dinner. I don't think you can see well enough to ride that bike home. By the way, I expect to see both of your hands on the dinner table at all times. Is that understood?"

Not wanting to mess up the relationship with his future father-in-law, Jacob responded very formally. "Yes, sir!"

"Now you two clean up this mess. Damn, this whole episode is like a scene from a soap opera—literally."

Charlie leaned over and just loud enough for Jake to hear, asked, "Does this mean that Edward is out of the picture?"

"You got it, Charlie. I'm as amazed as you are. It's a miracle all right, but yeah, that's about the size of it." Jake crossed his fingers and under his breath, added, "And I certainly hope it stays that way."

As Charlie left the room, Jake distinctly saw him raise his fist in the air and heard him sing out, "Yes!"

Bells and Jake got to work wiping up all the spilled detergent and the trickles of water pooled on the kitchen floor.

Grinning at Jake, Bells entreated, "Want to come over next Saturday? I'll be doing more laundry—lots more laundry."

Jacob gave her a wink. "Sure, sure, but I'll be bringing along an extra shirt just in case."

Bella sighed, "Spoilsport!"

* * *

><p>AN: Gives a whole new meaning to the line: 'Love is blind', huh?


End file.
